During the Great Depression, the Federal Writers Project commissioned several initiatives designed to aid thousands of struggling American writers and journalists. But perhaps their most interesting project is also one of their most important: a collection of oral histories known as the “Slave Narratives Project.” And within that collection, one narrative in particular stands out: the story of Rezin Williams.
Those who live in Maryland may be familiar with Goatman, the half-goat, half-man creature. Perhaps you have heard that he was the result of a science experiment gone wrong, or maybe you've heard of his violent nature. The popularity of this folklore begs us to ask, how did the tale of this local beast from Clinton spread all over the state?
In 1847, seventy slaves went to the Maryland courts to enforce a deed of manumission granting them their freedom. What should have been a simple matter exploded into a nine-year court case that spun furiously around the ominous question at its core: if a man frees his slaves on moral conviction, does that make him insane?
William Levitt is often called the "Father of Suburbia," after his planned communities became popular in post-war New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. When he finally came to the D.C. area, his modern and afforable homes took Washingtonians by storm.
By 1963, “Belair at Bowie” was thriving. Since its opening in 1961, over 2,000 houses were occupied. But its prosperity hid an uncomfortable truth. William Levitt’s vision of the perfect neighborhood included attractive homes, affordable prices, comfort, and community — but only one type of neighbor. From the moment Levitt arrived in Washington, local activists — and even the government — became aware of the developer’s racist policy: none of the homes in Belair could be sold to people of color.
On April 28, 1909, a funeral procession nearly a mile long paraded down Pennsylvania Avenue and M Street, complete with fine carriages and a military escort. Throughout Washington, D.C., flags were displayed at half mast, spectators lined the streets, and school children were allowed a break from their studies to glimpse out the window and see it pass by. The man they were there to honor was Major Pierre Charles L’Enfant… who died in 1825.
The official history of Monopoly states that the game was invented in 1935 by Charles Darrow, a man down on his luck during the Great Depression, who was catapulted to fame and fortune through his invention of a simple board game. The game was hugely popular, selling two million copies in its first two years in print. However, the game would have already seemed very familiar to intellectuals, leftists, and Quakers across the Northeast. And for good reason: the Monopoly we know today is a near-carbon copy of an earlier game, The Landlord’s Game, designed by a Maryland stenographer named Elizabeth Magie — except that while Monopoly’s goal is to bankrupt your opponents, The Landlord’s Game was intended to show players the evils of monopolies.
